


Your Skin Against Mine

by Cupcakemolotov



Series: mini-drabbles [21]
Category: The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: F/M, SO MUCH FLUFF, There is Fluff Here, morning fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-17
Updated: 2018-04-17
Packaged: 2019-04-24 01:48:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14345403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cupcakemolotov/pseuds/Cupcakemolotov
Summary: Some mornings were better than others.





	Your Skin Against Mine

Caroline woke to the slow drag of knuckles down her spine. Grumbling, she pressed her face further against the warm neck beneath her cheek, body sliding pleasantly against naked skin. The scent of blood and sex was heavy in the air, but even the reminder of the previous night's activities didn't leave her inclined to move. She'd never tell him, Klaus was already far to smug these mornings that she woke in his bed, but she rarely slept better than pressed flushed against him. It was the excuse she gave herself for why she always woke sprawled across him like a Caroline-blanket, regardless of how she fell asleep.

Klaus made a soft noise of amusement, knuckles shifting to drag along the muscles of her back. "Morning, sweetheart.'

She pressed firmer against the pillow, nails digging against his hip. "Too early."

Years ago, and she'd have fumbled out of the bed as soon as she awoke, pretending she didn't want to stay. Refusing to admit that being curled around Klaus was as safe as she'd ever felt. But that little defiance had faded over the years, and this morning, she just wanted to sleep. Lazy mornings were one of her few indulgences, and Klaus rarely kept their mornings slow. Not with her impending departure looming over his head. He'd never pushed, rarely called her on her desire to limit her time in his bed, but he knew the limits of her vampirism down to the last orgasm.

To her surprise, Klaus merely hummed, palm flattening against her low back. When he made no move to do more than lay beneath her like a proper pillow, she sighed and allowed herself to drift. She could feel the sun warming her feet and calves, but it was weak compared to the heat of Klaus' hybrid nature.

"Tell me," Klaus murmured lowly some unknown amount of time later, fingers tugging lightly at the ends of her hair. "How long until you'll admit that you want to stay?"

For a moment, she drowsily considered being pissed. It was just like him, to slide such a question between them when she was content. But it was hard to work up the mad when he used that low tone, voice a rich rasp of need. Huffing, she lifted her head to frown at him from beneath the wild tumble of her sex ruined hair. She expected the intensity of his gaze, but the not the softness as he pushed her hair away from her face. It was that tenderness that curbed her tongue. Particularly since she wasn't inclined to start an argument, not after the night before and the indulgence of that morning.

"Not today," she said, voice rough from sleep, her grouchiness at being woken clear on her face. Klaus' gaze narrowed and she gave an embarrassing squeak as he rolled them. Blowing at strand of hair, she went to scowl when his head dipped and his mouth caught hers. There was a slow intensity to his kiss and Klaus' particularly brand of possessive greed, but intertwined was that softness that he'd only ever shown her. She relaxed against him, fingers twisting in his tangled curls, leg winding around his hip.

"How about tomorrow," he cajoled against her lips, thumb feathering against her cheek. She sighed as he settled further between her thighs, his growing erection stirring her interest. She ignored that low flush of heat, the way he watched her with knowing eyes.

Instead, unhurried, she dragged her nails down the nape of his neck, palm lingering on the muscle of his shoulders. "Probably not tomorrow, either, but I'm open to persuasion."

This time his kiss was hotter, wetter, and when he slid down the line of her body, she welcomed the familiar distraction. Caroline didn't need an excuse to stay, not for decades, but she wasn't silly enough to turn down the practiced stroke of his tongue. It was _hours_ before she convinced him to leave the room, but dinner had been followed by dancing, which always led back to the bedroom. When she woke the next morning, it was to the gentle tug of fingers through her hair and her disgruntled realization that at some point, she really was going to have to admit that he was right.

She did want to stay.

She'd probably make him wait another week, if she could manage it.


End file.
